Joy for Mourning
by Aamalie
Summary: Sango visits an old grave site.


**Author's Note:** Written for the mirsan_fics community on LJ. The prompt was 'tear' and this took third place.

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**Joy For Mourning**

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The breeze blew coolly, rustling the long grass around Sango's feet and caught at her hair, lifting stray strands from their bindings. She raised a hand to brush her bangs from her eyes and somberly gazed into the grave at her feet.

The curve of the earth was familiar; its empty half-sphere in the midst of the otherwise smooth landscape had haunted her worst dreams on many occasions. The years had smoothed its appearance - bare earth had turned grassy, and the grave marker at the center weatherworn with age. Her eyes drifted shut, and Sango breathed deep as the wind gave a fresh gust, so peaceful in comparison to that gale…

"There you are."

An arm slid around her torso, a bare hand coming to rest just over the curve of her hip. She smiled gently, leaning back against the man whose title was no longer _Houshi-sama_, but _Husband._

"Did you have a good talk with Mushin-sama?" she queried softly.

Miroku chuffed a laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss against the side of her neck. He shifted upward to murmur in her ear. "Yes. He said it was about time we got the job done, and then insisted that we name our firstborn after him."

"Oh?" she commented dryly, skepticism and amusement visibly warring on her face. "Is that so?"

He nodded, resting his chin over her shoulder. "He mentioned something about it being because of how much trouble I've put him through. Since it's been so long since my last visit, he had to make arrangements for fresh sake all on his own. Quite the inconvenience."

Sango shook her head. "Well, at least I know where you get it from."

Miroku laughed quietly, and several moments passed in peaceful silence before he spoke. "What were you doing out here?" he asked at length, looking out over his father's grave.

She hesitated a little before replying. "I wanted to pay my respects, I guess. And, well… it still seems a little surreal that it's all over now."

"It is," he reminded her firmly, tugging her around to face him. Sango went with his movement easily, slipping into his embrace more fully. Miroku smirked down at her, an all too familiar expression that was equal parts teasing and lecherous. "And now it's time to start making good on those promises we made…"

She did her best to level the monk a baleful glare, but it proved futile when he brought her closer and kissed her fully - even as his hand cupped her bottom suggestively. Sango paid it no mind; marriage to the lecher had shown her there were much 'worse' things he could do, and she could hardly be persuaded to reprimand him for any of it anymore.

Sango broke away first, breathing deeply. "Is this really the place for this?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder towards his father's final resting place. Miroku shrugged ruefully.

"I'd like to think he would be proud of my efforts," he quipped, raising a brow suggestively.

Sango thought better of responding and settled for resting her head against his chest, enjoying the easy intimacy that had grown between them since Naraku's defeat. It hadn't been the smoothest transition, but she wouldn't trade this, trade _now_, for anything. The past year had been wrought with trials and loss, but it hadn't been without its gains. She'd fought hard for this, for him, for their future, and being in this place reminded her how grateful she was that the battle was won. Though the Kazaana had claimed his father and his grandfather, it would never claim Miroku, and the knowledge that that fear was finally at rest made Sango's eyes prick with tears of relief.

But only for a moment, and then they abated, because she was too happy to cry. Instead, she breathed in, relishing the feel of her husband's arms around her, and determined that she had had enough of sorrow. There was no need to mourn might-have-beens.

"We should go in," she said softly as the wind grew chillier.

Miroku hummed his agreement. "And what will we do when we get there?"

She blushed at the insinuation.

"Pervert," she grumbled, stepping back. Still, she belied her words with an indulgent smile and slid her hand into his, and together they turned away and headed back towards the temple.

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End file.
